Bad Things Come in Twos
by facelessgunslinger
Summary: Jason was just a man looking to make a living being a bodyguard for the rich and famous, but no one ever told him that you had to start somewhere. Now he's just doing what he can, like anybody. It's just, in the rough galaxy we live in, what you can do might not be nearly enough. Don't own Mass Effect.
1. Chapter 1

Jason Voyyd's favorite gun will always be Maggie, a custom Raider AT-12. She was tough, brutal, and kicked like a Yahg. Absent was the usual dessert camouflage finish; a gloss black in it's place. If asked, Jason would say that he preferred the Batarian scattergun due to it's incredible rate of fire and damage. By the time the first slug has destroyed one half of your body, the second is already on its way to finish off the other half, if it takes that many. Nothing less than a Krogan Battlemaster does.

Jason was bit like his mother and alot like his father. Much like his Mother, an expert bartender, when she had been around, he was smart, tall, and a bit on the quiet side, but easy to talk to if you felt inclined.

Like his father, however, he rather enjoyed a good fight and God help you if you crossed him. That might be why Jason was on Ellium, fending off a dozen Turian smugglers with his gorgeous Asari companion. Let's back up a bit, shall we?

He had come on Thessia with the intention of becoming a bodyguard to one of the rich Asari Matriarchs here and making an honest living, but anti-human bigotry and no reputation to speak of had him at a major disadvantage. Thus, he set about enjoying a good buzz at the nearest watering hole, The Violet Mistress. He had dressed down in just a t-shirt and jeans with heavy boots and was nursing a drink with one calloused hand. He was an intimidating sort, with his tall muscled build and scarred biceps but he was handsome in his own way with a square jaw and narrow nose, he hadn't shaved in two days so a bit of a beard was starting in and his short, dark hair was unruly.

He sat in the back, with a full view of the place, sipping at an Asari scotch the bartender had recommended after she apologized for not having his favorite drink. It had a nice taste. The music wasn't obnoxiously loud and there were plenty of beautiful women of varying species and Jason just couldn't seem not to feel good. Then _she_ showed up.

She wasn't dressed entirely to party but damn if she didn't look good. She was a lighter blue than the typical Asari, a neon kind of blue. She had dark blue markings about her eyes and going down the sides of her nose with the same color on her plump lips. Her attire was a skintight kind of leather-like armor that he had seen some of her Commando sisters wear but customized to leave her shoulders bare and plentiful cleavage on full display. Black in color with dark red seams going vertically down her arms, legs, and under her bust. Straps wrapped around her calves, thighs, waist, and ribs. Her combat boots were elevated at the heel about three inches making her shapely rear and long legs look even more attractive, if that was possible. Her sleeves were connected to her middle finger by a ring on each hand which was definitely _not_ tactical in the slightest.

'...And she's looking my way.' He grimaced.

Now Jason wasn't exactly against the company of such a striking creature, but a seedy hotel and a nearly empty wallet does not make a very attractive individual.

'...And then there's the Carnifex Pistol she's carrying.' That was probably the reason she wasn't being hassled for a dance, the other patrons just sat back and ogled her, figuring her for Police or Mercenary. Then he looked closer.

She had evaluated everyone in the bar including him, then came back to him when her scan was complete, looking for potential threats. Finding none, she zeroed in on him and him only, gauging his reaction to her very approach for weakness, a lopsided smirk in her sinful lips. The mercenary part might not be far from the truth, but his first guess would be Hit-woman.

She stopped in front of the chair, hand on her hip and shining eyes.

"This seat taken?" Voice was pleasing to hear, little rough though, smoker maybe? No, he would've smelled it on her perfume.

The only seat was beside him.

He reached over and pulled out the chair with one lazy arm, never saying a word and keeping his eyes locked this hers. They stayed locked until she moved to sit.

"A gentleman? What's your name, Handsome?" She leaned her head on her hand, he noticed a few indicators of heavy firearm use.

"Jason, Miss. Yours'?" He flagged down a barmaid for her.

"Naila T'kia, and I think I have a job for you." She actually winked.

-End-


	2. Chapter 2

Naila _hated_ unreliability. She couldn't afford it to be honest. She was just a bouncer at The Violet Mistress and while her wages there payed her rent and kept her fed, she couldn't quite afford that new sniper rifle she had her eye on. So now and again she would take the odd job around Illium; security, armored transport, that kind of thing. But tonight, her job was easy. Her contact had tipped her off that a group of notorious Turian smugglers had set up shop near Nos Astra and she could definitely play bounty hunter for the right price. The main problem was that the help she had lined up for the job had backed out at the last _fucking _second and her chances of success went from good to slim in too much of a hurry for her liking. So her first thought was to head back to The Mistress and find some help for the job, or start using that employee discount to get hammered.

When she walked in and saw him, she decided on the first one.

She strolled in, hips gyrating with every step; gaze sweeping through the dancefloor and tables. A few dancers, Turians, a Hanar, two Salarians, and a Human. The Turians had no armor or weapons and looked like teenagers if the gawking they did to the dancer at their table was any indication. No Hanar, they freak her out. Salarians are definitely civilians. The Human...

Now _he _was something.

Her observational skills were honed from a century or two of combat conditioning and she could recognize a brawler when she saw one. Cut from a rougher cloth by the looks of it, but a handsome one. His chest broad, his height imposing, and his abs prominent. His jaw was chisled and his nose narrow. His arms crisscrossed with old cuts and bullet scars that should have made him less appealing but if there is one thing Naila liked in a man, it was _personality_.

His clothes were meant for functionality and simplicity over style and sex appeal, but he filled them out and looked good in them just the same.

The was his eyes ran slowly over Naila's form was calculating and curious. Cautious, but _interested_.

Naila smirked. 'I can work with this.'

The matron asari put an extra bit of swagger in her step as she approached. The lights were dim and her eyelashes were low when she made it to his table. After she took the _graciously_ offered seat, she ordered her drink, and wasted no time in letting the man in on her identity and intentions.

"Naila T'Kia, and I think I have a job for you." She said it with a smile.

The boy, and he was a boy by her standards, known as Jason busted his own lopsided smile (and she did like his smile) at her forwardness and took a sip of his drink while the waitress brought her martini. Naila swirled the alchohol around in her glass as she waited for him to answer.

"Details?"

She took a long, slow sip of her drink before she answered. "Twelve smugglers; armed. Substantial bounties on five and we split it seventy/thirty. Sound good?" She liked the way he cut to the chase, saved her time.

"I'm a bodyguard, Miss T'kia. I don't mess with that kind of work." He caught himself before he added "anymore" at the end of that sentence.

Naila clicked her tongue. That complicated things. "Well, that's a problem."

He nodded.

"Who do you work for? I've never seen a human bodyguard on Ellium that wasn't part of a merc group or tourist group." 'or was as rudged.' She added in her head.

"No one yet, I just landed a week ago."

'Ah, that explains it.' She grinned. "Hard times?"

Jason nodded. "I just haven't found a VIP that's needs a human bodyguard yet."

Naila leaned toward Jason and looked into his grayish-green eyes. "Sweetie, how about a deal? I'm pretty aquainted with a few of the more privilaged of society around here; you help me clear out these scum, I put in a good word for you."

Jason shook his head and stared at his drink. "...I'm not some common mercenary who does anything for a credit, I have standards."

The blue lady smiled. "Fair enough. I go in alone, with my _tall, handsome bodyguard _and _negotiate_ the surrender of these Turians to the authorites and pay your protection fee as soon as I turn the bounties in. Does that sound better, Sweetie?"

He finished his drink and she was pleased to see he hadn't waved for another.

Naila put a hand on his arm. "What do you say, Mister Bodyguard?"

He rolled his neck and she heard a few cracks. Then he flashed a crooked grin. "Jason Voyyd; at your service, Miss T'kia. When would you like me to start?"

Naila used her omnitool to transfer the Turian's info, as well as the layout of their hideout.

She pointed at a building adjacent to the Smuggler's hideout. "Meet me here in two hours. Ready to do some heavy 'bodyguarding'." She stood and threw him one more teasing smile. "Got it?"

"Yes ma'am, see you there." His eyes gently rolled over her shapely form when she turned away before shaking his head.

'Remember Jay, you pride yourself on professionalism' He thought, secretly excited at the prospect of seeing the blue woman again... and the paycheck.

-ONE HOUR AND FOURTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER-

The hideout was shitty, but still better than most to fit in with the reputation with Ellium. One front entrance, three windows on the first floor; four on the second. Basement.

Jason took the scope away from his eye.

Clad in pale yellow armor, right bicep showing, but shoulder covered with a black plate with a strange symbol left over from his stint in the Talons back on Omega. The armor was one of his Dad's spares that Jason always felt was more dependable than most. Although Jason's was less cobbled together than his Old Man's, he could fill it out just as well. Plus, Jason had an ace _on _his sleeve.

The three orange bolts on his right shoulder glowed menacingly as Jason activated the omnibow on his right forearm. He checked what was considered the 'mechanism' of the weapon and ran a diagnostic on his armor. Finding everything in order, he picked his helmet up off the ground and looked for any lingering damage he might have missed earlier. The yellow helmet had reenforced black plates on the cheek and cranium area, with perfectly circular eyepieces. He slid it onto his head, the eyepieces lighting up a light blue to show it's status as activated.

Jason drew his shotgun, and slid a thermal clip into place; feeling ready for anything.

"I love a man who's punctual." Naila sang from the doorway, genuinely pleased at his attendence while similtaniously slightly surprised at his choice of armor and weapons.

Jason nodded. "Ready to go, Miss T'kia." His voice distorted slightly from the mask filters.

Naila got a better look at her 'Bodyguard's' form as her eyes adjusted to the minimal light and couldn't help but think he looked sexy. The armor color was a strange choice but, hey, she went into battle in skintight Yahg leather and biotic shields so who was she to judge?

Jason got his own view of Naila's generous figure and wondered idly if her lack of body protection would be a misson risk. That wondering was quickly ceased when she lit up with a glorious blue of biotic shielding and smoothly inserting thermal clips into two Carnifex Pistols with a grace Jason could honestly say he had never seen before.

"Ideas?" She asked while bringing the layout up on her Omnitool.

Jason pointed at the front door. "Only one entrance, Ma'am, we could try the windows?"

Naila clicked her tongue. "Nah, windows are twelve feet in the air, and they'd see us coming a mile away."

Jason nodded. "I agree, Ma'am, that's why I brought these." He brought out a package from the bag beside him.

The asari's eyebrow rose. "Got a plan for those?"

Jason nodded. "Yes ma'am, though you might not like where you are in the plan."

-FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER-

Greetcher was one of the best smugglers in Omega; that much he knew for sure. If it weighed less than a metric ton and was at least halfway safe for transport, he could get it from point A to point B quick, clean, and for a reasonable, though... sizeable, fee; and up until a week ago his identity and front as a delivery service were both completely secure, then that asshole calling himself Archangel blows his cover, operation, and the heads off half his men, leaving him with these precious loyal few and a sudden need to distance himself from the seedy smuggler's paradise that Aria T'Loak called her kingdom.

One of his employees called to him.

"Yes? What is it?" He leaned over the railling of the second floor, mandibles flared in frustration of both his current situation and the impending migraine racking under the plates of his cranium.

"Some asari's at the door; says she's got a package for this address. What do you want me to tell her?"

Greetcher rose an eyebrow. "What did the package look like?"

The same turian employee blinked, then looked back through the looking glass in the door.

"She doesn't seem to have one, Sir. Orders?"

Greetcher stroked his chin and hummed.

He stood up and started to walk toward his office. "kill her, then clean up the mess." He dissappeared through the hallway.

The men on the first floor, eleven in total, looked at each other, then pointed their weapons at the entrance. The Doorman sighed. "Damn, she's one fine-ass Asari too, wouldn't have minded her handling _my _package."

-SAME TIME, UPSTAIRS OFFICE-

Greetcher ducked through the door to what amounted to his office these days. Gone were the ornate decorations and rich scent of prosperity that greeted him many a day back in Omega, now only plain gray concrete and the smell of stale food from the restaurant across the street gave him company now; luxuries sacraficed for both the building defenses and paychecks for his bodyguards. Speaking of building defenses, Greetcher could see a blinking red light peaking at him under the stack of papers that almost consumed his desk. He quickly swept them aside and deciphered which sensor it was.

'Roof sensor net, huh? Probably an animal or something... But with that Asari outside, I'd better check it out on the feeds.' He couldn't really find it in him to trust any of his remaining employees to reliably keep tabs on the buildings perimeter so he had it all routed through a central terminal in his office, screens and consoles covering one wall, currently turned to look outside over the ramshackle fence lining the west and north sides, programmed to shift direction every thirty seconds or so. Greetcher hit the roof sensor relay and the screen shifted.

Greetcher nearly pissed himself then grabbed the intercom microphone.

"GET TO THE RO-" He was cut off by the explosion that rocked the building.

-DOWNSTAIRS, THIRTY SECONDS EARLIER-

The Doorman signaled his friends with one hand and had his other on the door control. He nodded to the other ten men, all with weapons trained on center mass of what they perceived as an easy target.

The Doorman whispered. "Okay, on my mark. Three. Two. One-"

The intercom made a rude buzzing noise, and the high-pitched voice of Greetcher screamed through the mic: "GET TO THE RO-"

The roof disappearing with a great boom interrupted him.

Now, these men were lucky in the fact that they were all pretty much on one side of the room and the actual hole on the ceiling, plus the falling debris by proxy, was all occurring in a roughly twenty foot diameter in the _center_. They were even level-headed enough to recognize that someone was using the falling concrete as cover and were already primed to fire at the intruder.

They were _unlucky _in that the Asari they were prepared to fill with armor-piercing rounds not a second earlier had already hacked the door and was leveling two very large pistols at the two nearest targets.

And thus; Jason Voyyd began his first job on Illium.


End file.
